Lewis Worthington Smith

LIKE driftwood burning in the grate—

Salt with the boundless sea,

Glowing with all the changing fate

That drove it far and held it late—

Broken and beaten you may be,

But sad experience leaps and flies

To light and color in your eyes.

Like wreckage tossing with the tide,

Borne from we know not where,

The wildness of the waves you ride,

However much your face may hide,

Has left its mark of foul and fair;

And brave experience leaps and plays

About my dreams of your dead days.

Like love before a driftwood fire,

I watch the colors warm

Paint on your cheeks each old desire,

Make you a thing I might aspire

To hold and shelter from the storm.

This is your lure, to drift wind-tossed,

Compass and soul and rudder lost.

……..

The firelight dies. Our fancies part.

I, with the world, must shut my heart.

Poor wasted beauty! It must be—

The changing tide sweeps out to sea.